Page 43 of Diamonds in the Mud

It was clear that Jackson had asked Emma to play blocker, and I couldn’t fault the woman for simply doing her job.

“I’m not…” Emma started, but when she noticed me raising my eyebrows, she sighed. “What questions?”

“Schedule questions,” I said, pulling out my notepad. For the next few moments, I asked Emma every question I thought she could answer. Most of them were about Pennington’s whereabouts before, during, and in the days after Sharon’s murder.

Emma rattled off the man’s schedule and, after I requested a copy, she shot me an email. I noticed that none of the information provided was after business hours with the exception of one evening dinner with a client in a town almost an hour away.

I was just about to ask another question when the dark wood double doors opened and Pennington stepped out with a dark-skinned woman with jet-black hair who looked to be in her mid-thirties. I had never seen the woman in town before. Her business attire spoke of money, yet her neon purple lips and the matching purple tips of her hair spoke of something else.

The woman was quite stunning and spoke in a deep voice laced with Southern charm. I pegged it for a Georgia accent, not Louisiana.

“Thank you, Mrs. Caldwell.” Jackson’s smile slipped slightly when he noticed me leaning against the secretary’s desk.

I smiled at him and waited, watching the interaction.

“I’ll get those numbers to you later this week,” Mrs. Caldwell said easily as she shook Pennington’s hand. “I look forward to doing business with you.”

Pennington nodded and stood just inside his doors until Mrs. Caldwell passed me.

The woman’s eyes narrowed slightly as she assessed me, then she nodded at me before leaving.

“Rayne, please come in.” Jackson motioned as he stood back, allowing me to pass through the doors. “Emma, hold all my calls,” he said before shutting the door behind us. “What can I do for you today, Rayne?”

I moved into the massive office and sat down in one of the high-back red leather chairs.

The chairs sat almost half a foot shorter than his chair, so he towered over anyone who sat down across from him, which told me exactly what kind of man he was. He wanted control, and power over anyone he met with.

Still, I knew how to deal with power-hungry men and straightened my back just enough that we sat almost eye to eye.

“Emma was kind enough to fill me in on your schedule during the last few weeks,” I informed him as he settled into his chair.

“By you still being here, I’m assuming you have more questions?” he asked.

I smiled slightly, not letting my irritation with his tone show.

“Your assistant can only confirm your whereabouts during business hours. I require some after-hours information.” I pulled out my notepad.

“Such as?” he asked, his tone laced with annoyance.

I rattled off the dates and times and then jotted down his responses. Most of his time was spent traveling between Gemsville and Lafayette, where he claimed he had several business meetings with investors.

“You missed one,” I pointed out. “The night of Sharon’s murder.” I waited.

He tilted his head and glanced at his phone before answering.

“If I didn’t mention it, I was at home. Alone,” he said dryly.

I nodded several times as I thought. “No missus at home?” I said as I tucked my notepad into my pocket.

“No.” The man’s left eyebrow arched up.

“No prospects in that area?” I asked.

“Rayne, is this a futile attempt to ask me out?” he said with a sneer.

I put on my fuck-you smile and remained quiet for a moment. Long enough that he started to squirm for a split second.

The man was tall, skinny, too refined for my taste and probably didn’t have a tattoo on his body. He wore suits like they were his comfort clothes and, to be honest, there was nothing less appealing than the way he spoke to women as if they were his slaves only here to do his bidding.